


How Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy became friends

by mfingenius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 09:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfingenius/pseuds/mfingenius
Summary: Draco's pregnant and Harry's on an Auror mission.It's up to Ron to keep the insufferable prat company.





	How Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy became friends

“No.” 

“Ron, _please_,” Harry says pleadingly. He already has his bags packed, and the Portkey leaves in less than twenty minutes. Ron can hold off for another twenty minutes.

“No,” Ron says again, crossing his arms. “Look, mate, you may have forgotten this, but Malfoy and I don’t get along! And he’s more responsible than either of us! He doesn’t need a babysitter!”

Harry grimaces. “Please, Ron, I need this favor.”

Ron huffs and shuffles uncertainly. _Only fourteen more minutes._

“Why?” He asks, exasperated. “You’ve left Malfoy alone before, you’ve never asked me to watch him. And what does that even _mean_, watch him? He’s twenty one! I’m not going to distract him with a plushie and send him to bed early!”

Draco would kill him if he tried that, Harry knows. He chews on his lower lip. 

Draco hadn’t wanted to tell anyone that he was pregnant yet; Harry isn’t exactly sure why, but he has a list of possible reasons: they’re young, they’re not married, his parents will _murder_ him. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy have begrudgingly accepted the fact that they were dating, but if Harry tells Lucius Malfoy that he knocked up his son - effectively getting them kicked out of the Sacred Twenty-Eight list - and that they’re not getting married before the baby’s born - Harry’s been wanting to marry Draco for almost the three years they’ve been dating, and, if he’s honest, he’d do it in sweatpants in their couch and be the happiest man in the world with it. Draco, however, wants a _proper_ wedding - Harry thinks he has a pretty good chance of Malfoy actually putting a price on his head. 

Harry’s own parents already know - they’re thrilled - and so do Parkinson and Zabini. Draco had agreed when Harry had asked if he could tell Hermione and Ron, but he did so so reluctantly that Harry hadn’t done it yet.

He thinks this might be the time, though.

“Draco’s pregnant.” He blurts.

Ron’s eyes widen, and he looks so horrified Harry doesn’t know whether to be amused or offended.

“Pregnant?” Ron asks. 

“Yes,” Harry says.

“With _your _child?”

“Yes,”

“As in, you’re going to be _parents _together?” 

“Yes.”

“So you’re not breaking up with him?”

“No,”

“_Fuck_. I owe Hermione ten Galleons.”

“_Hey!” _Harry says. “You bet we’d break up?”

Ron waves it away impatiently. “Malfoy’s _pregnant _pregnant?”

“_Yes_,” Harry says, a little impatiently now. “Look, it’s only - he’s only four months along, and we didn’t want to tell anyone until halfway through the pregnancy.” Draco had made that choice. He’d been terrified of losing the baby, even if they’d both been told, by multiple healers, that not only was Draco in prime condition to have a baby, but that they both looked healthy and strong. “But I - I’m worried about him. I don’t want him alone for so long.”

Ron narrows his eyes at Harry, and then huffs, rolling his eyes. 

“_Fine_.” He says. “But you will pay for the therapy sessions I will surely need after I spend time with your boyfriend!”

“I promise,” Harry vows.

*

When Draco opens the door to find Ronald Weasley standing in front of it glaring at him, he wrinkles his nose.

“What are you doing here, Weasel?” He asks, fighting the urge to hex the redhead when he merely scowls and moves past him, right into Draco’s and Harry’s flat. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“That’s what I told Harry.” Weasley says, rolling his eyes and dropping on the couch. “But he made me promise.”

“So?” Draco asks, waving it away. ”Tell him you did it, I’ll say the same, and he never has to find out.”

“I’m not lying to my best friend.” Weasley says pointedly.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Bore.”

He closes the door and curls himself onto the big blue armchair that he loves, picking up the book he’d been reading.

Weasley looks around for a few minutes.

“What is there to do here?” he asks, looking at the telly wearily.

Draco doesn’t answer.

“Is your book interesting?”

No answer.

“Are you - err - alright?” 

Draco curses under his breath and looks up.

“You know.” He says, deadpan.

“I don’t know anything,” Weasley says hastily.

“You know that I’m pregnant.” Draco says. “And it’s why you’re being nice to me.” Weasley doen’t deny it. “Well, cut it out. It’s weird.”

Weasley scowls. “Fine.”

He drums his fingers against the coffee table.

“And _shut up_.” Draco snaps.

“_Fine_.”

*

Ron’s been staying at Harry’s - because he can’t think of Harry’s as Harry’s _and Draco’s _yet - for a few days in utter and complete silence. Malfoy doesn’t talk to him, and Ron doesn’t try to start conversation either. Ron doesn’t think he’s ever gone this long without saying a word. The only break he gets from it is when he goes to work at the Aurors’, and even that somehow seems to be going through a quiet and boring lull.

Because of it, he’s surprised when Malfoy throws his coat at him.

“Oi!” He says indignantly.

“Put it on,” Malfoy orders. “We’re going to the Healer’s.”

Ron immediately shoots up from his seat.

“Why?” He asks, alarmed. Fuck, if something happens to Malfoy while Harry is away Ron doesn’t know what he’ll do. “Are you alright? Does something hurt? Is the baby okay?”

“Yes, no, and I wouldn’t know.” Malfoy says. He shifts from foot to foot stiffly. “It’s my monthly appointment. For the - pregnancy.”

Ron spends an entire minute frozen, stunned. Is Malfoy asking him to go with him to a place where Ron doesn’t _have_ to go? Could it be?

“Harry always goes with me.” Malfoy says, reluctantly. “I’ve never gone alone.”

_And I don’t want to_, goes unsaid.

Ron doesn’t know much about Malfoy; the prick went to Beauxbaton’s, he’s a Veela - Ron had been pathetically speechless the first few minutes they met, until the git opened his mouth - and he’s his best friend’s… _lover_, he guesses. What he _does_ know, though, with utter, absolute certainty, is, _Malfoy’s a stubborn bastard_. He would _never_ ask Ron to accompany him to the Healer’s if he didn’t feel like he had any other choice.

“Alright.” He says.

*

“Weasley I am going to _literally _murder you.” Malfoy says, a second before he runs off to the bathroom to retch.

“This is what you asked for!” Ron says, throwing up his hands. The sandwich - if it can even be called that - it’s filled with strawberries, whipped cream, ham, cheese, and _cucumber_ \- is literally Malfoy’s _exact_ craving. He’d pestered Ron until he made it, a few minutes ago.

“Well I don’t want it anymore!” Malfoy snaps from the bathroom. “Make me something good!”

“What does that _mean_?” Ron asks, exasperated. Malfoy’s cravings have been weirder and weirder, and Ron cannot - for the life of him - figure them out.

“Figure it out!” Malfoy snaps, and he vomits again.

Ron sighs. _When is Harry getting back again_?

*

Of course. Of _all_ of his vulnerable moments, the Weasel had to walk in on _this _one.

“Malfoy?” He seems uncertain. “Are you crying?”

Draco blows his nose loudly from where he’s sitting in front of the mirror, another sob escaping his throat. Weasley walks over, seemingly alarmed, and Draco barks out a bitter laugh.

“What’s wrong?” Weasel asks. “Does anything hurt?”

“No,” Draco says sourly. “I’m fat.”

Weasel stares at him for a moment, and then laughs.

Draco punches him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Weasley says, from where he’s fallen on his butt next to Draco. “Merlin, Malfoy. Look, you’re not fat.”

“Yes I am!” Draco snaps, looking back at the mirror, tears welling in his eyes. “_Look!”_

It’s not even that, he knows. He doesn’t care if he’s fat, or thin, or whatever, and he knows Harry wouldn’t, either, but this pregnancy has him crying about literally _everything_.

“I’m looking!” Weasley says. “And you’re not fat! You’re barely even showing!”

“Oh, yeah?” Draco snaps. He grabs his trousers from beside him - he’s only in grey pants - and throws them at Weasley angrily. “They won’t button.”

Weasley stares down at the pants for a moment. “There are enlargement charms.”

That sends Draco into another fit of sobs, which makes Weasley hilariously frantic.

“Or not,” He says quickly. “Don’t cry, okay? Look, I’ll - we don’t have to leave the house! Ever again. You can stay here and wear what fits, and we’ll _incendio _what doesn’t.”

It makes Draco feel better.

“Fine,” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “Now get me a tub of ice cream.”

Weasley laughs, and Draco smacks him.

*

“Are you seeing this?” Harry whispers.

“Yes,” Hermione seems just as stunned as he is.

“Are they actually _getting along_?” Harry demands quietly.

Hermione shrugs helplessly.

They’re both standing at the door - neither of their boyfriends have seen them - and staring at where Ron and Draco are sharing what seems to be a plateful of chips, covered with whipped cream, fudge, chocolate chip bits, peanut butter, and bits of steak.

Harry thinks he might gag.

“Harry!” Draco is the first one to notice him. “You’re back!”

Harry barely has any time to steel himself before his boyfriend is on him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck. He grabs Draco’s thighs, grunting slightly at the unexpected extra weight.

And _fuck_, Harry can feel it. He can feel Draco’s belly - small, but bigger than it had been a month and a half ago, when he’d left - between them, and he can’t seem to decide between pushing him back to look at it or hugging him closer because he hasn’t seen the love of his life in a month and a half.

“I missed you,” Draco whispers, watery, and Harry looks up, alarmed.

“You’re crying?” He asks. “Why are you crying?”

Ron, from where he’d gotten up much more calmly and now has an arm wrapped around Hermione, responds.

“He does it all the time.” 

“Shut up, Ronald.” And Harry nearly drops his boyfriend, because, _Ronald_? The last he was aware of, it was _Weasel._

_“_I take it you had a nice month and a half?” Hermione asks faintly.

Harry puts Draco down and stares at his beaming boyfriend for a second before kissing him on the lips.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he sighs. He pulls back and looks down between them, Draco’s belly a round, prominent bulge where there used to be none. He drops a hand to it, rubbing lightly. “Both of you.”

Hermione makes a choked sound - fuck, he forgot to tell her - but doesn’t ask.

“We missed you, too,” Draco says happily. “Now come along and hold me.”

Harry laughs and kisses him until neither of them can breathe. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @mfingenius :D


End file.
